


onboard maintenance

by thewayofthemandalorian



Series: Season 2 oneshots [4]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Kissing, Mutual Pining, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27644441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewayofthemandalorian/pseuds/thewayofthemandalorian
Summary: Spoilers for episode 2.04 "Chapter Twelve: The Siege."When you notice someone tampering with the Razor Crest that you've been tasked with repairing, you warn the Mandalorian, offering to come along with him to rectify the situation. The more the two of you spend time together, the more aware you are made of your feelings.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader
Series: Season 2 oneshots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2044465
Kudos: 116





	onboard maintenance

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Here is my one-shot based on this week’s episode! As such, this one-shot will spoil 2.04 “Chapter 12: The Siege”, so if you haven’t seen the episode yet, please wait if you do not want to be spoiled!
> 
> Warnings: Spoilers for season 2, some swearing, mutual pining, kissing. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr: @thewayofthemandalorian

It was hot already. It was always hot on this stupid _kriffing_ planet. It wasn’t even midday and it was warmer than hell itself.

Pulling on your work coveralls, you stepped out into the sauna that was Nevarro.

You had to admit, up until three months ago, when the mysterious Mandalorian bounty hunter had last been here, you would never see a reformed Nevarro. It still wasn’t perfect, but with the way that Marshal Cara Dune had cleaned up the mess that it had been, it was a lot more respectable.

You thought about that Mandalorian sometimes. He had come and gone a lot more often in the past compared to now. You weren’t sure what happened with him, hoping that he was still alive. You had worked on his ship a couple of times, but he hardly spoke two words to you past a hello and a thank you. _If that_.

Still, that didn’t stop you from thinking about him. Wondering about him. You hardly knew the man, but still, you couldn’t help but be interested.

 _What did he look like beneath the_ beskar _and the helmet_?

You remembered when he had upgraded the armour, trading in his rusted one for the new silver one. It had burned into your mind’s eye for the entire day and into the night.

It was silly to think that anything would ever come of you and the Mandalorian. He hardly paid you any attention. You didn’t even know if he was alive. It had been months, and you hadn’t heard a single whisper of him from Karga or Dune.

 _He probably didn’t think about you anyway_ you reminded yourself.

As you made your way to the hangar for the day, you let your mind wander. It felt different today. Like something was going to happen. You weren’t sure what, but you couldn’t shake the feeling.

You had to train a new employee today. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but he seemed _off_. Like he wasn’t being entirely honest. He was very secretive. You had no problem with less chatty people. Hell, you were _interested_ in the least chatty person this side of the galaxy had ever seen. But just something about the way he spoke, the way his eyes darted back and forth, never meeting anyone’s eye, was suspicious.

Shaking your head, you had just made it to the landing zone when you saw it in the distance. Saw _him_.

Your - _the -_ Mandalorian attempting to get down from the stuck ramp of the _Razor Crest._

“Looks like someone could use some repairs,” said Karga as the Mandalorian made his way down with the small green child in tow.

The Mandalorian and Karga shook hands fondly. “How’s my credit around here?” asked Mando.

Karga glanced at Cara. “I think something could be arranged, isn’t that right Marshal?”

Cara nodded, smiling as she reached out to stroke the child’s ear in greeting.

“I’ll get my best people on it,” you heard Karga say. “Hey, guys!” he called to you and the other mechanics working. “Let’s fix this man’s ship, I want it as good as new,” he said.

Gesturing you over, Karga said to the Mandalorian, “You remember her right? She’s one of my best mechanics working here.”

Heat flooded your face as you stuttered out a hello. The Mandalorian surprised you by extending his hand for you to shake.

“I remember you, you did a really good job with the _Crest_ the last time it needed repairs here,” said the Mandalorian. More than your skill around a ship, Mando remembered your beauty. Your kindness.

The child in his arm cooed up at you.

Finding your voice, you joked, “Yeah, and then you went and wrecked my good work!”

The Mandalorian sighed. It seemed to be his default reaction, you noticed. “Wasn’t my fault, I had a run-in with the New Republic,” he defended himself.

Stepping back to take a look at the _Razor Crest_ , you said, “The New Republic did _all_ this?”

Mando sounded sheepish. “There may have been ice spiders involved … And a swim in Trask.”

You cringed. “Maker, Mando! How did you get here? Willpower? The Force? It’s a miracle this thing is still working. I’ll fix it up for you,” you promised him.

The Mandalorian nodded. “Thank you,” he said gratefully.

The way he held your gaze as he walked into town with Karga and Marshal Dune stayed in your mind for a very long time.

* * *

You were just finishing up the final touches on the ramp when you noticed your new co-worker tampering with something on the console.

“Hey!” you said, trying to get his attention.

He ignored you.

“I said, hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing? I already fixed the console,” you said, getting to your feet.

Your co-worker grumbled. “Nothing that concerns you, _girl_ ,” he snarled as he stopped tinkering with whatever it was that he was doing. He stalked off.

“Come back here!” you said. He ignored you again. “Karga’s not paying us to mess with people’s ships!”

You moved towards the console, sitting in the Mandalorian’s seat. Taking a good look at all the buttons and knobs, you looked for anything out of the ordinary. You knew your way around a ship. Mando would be back soon, and you didn’t want to have his ship defective in any way.

Then suddenly, you noticed it.

What looked to be a tracking device that wasn’t there before was sitting next to the hyperdrive switch.

How could a tracking device be of any good to Mando? He didn’t seem the type to track people.

 _Unless_ …

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you realized what was happening. It wasn’t _for_ the Mandalorian to use. It was for Moff Gideon and his minions to use _against_ the Mandalorian.

You’d heard the stories of what had happened. How Mando had saved the child he brought everywhere from Moff Gideon.

“ _Dank farrik_ ,” you muttered.

You had to warn him.

Jumping down from the ship you heard the tell-tale sound of a jetpack making its way nearer and nearer towards you.

Before you had a chance to compose an explanation or anything, Mando was landing, a few feet away from you.

He instantly noticed the worry you were trying to conceal. “What is it? Couldn’t fix my ship?” he asked teasingly.

The child cooed as he took another bite of the cookie he had in his little hand.

“N-no. It’s not that. Your ship’s good as new,” you said, trying to even your voice.

You didn’t have a chance to tell Mando what you had discovered. “We need to go,” he said, walking up the ramp.

Din took in his ship. It really _was_ good as new. He jumped when he saw you in the cockpit door.

“I need to tell you something,” you said.

Mando cut you off. “I’m sorry. I have to go help my friends. They find themselves in a tight spot,” he said.

You didn’t hesitate. “I’ll come with you.” When Mando looked at you, you continued. “A pair of backup eyes? It’s really important what I have to tell you.”

The Mandalorian conceded. “ _Fine_. But we have to go.”

* * *

“What was it that you wanted to tell me?” the Mandalorian asked as he wiped away the sick that was on the child’s robe with his cape.

You licked your lips before you spoke. “I’m sorry, I didn’t notice until it was too late, but my co-worker - I guess my former co-worker, now. I never trusted him. He didn’t seem trustworthy. He was always suspicious.” You were rambling.

Mando interrupted you. “ _Mesh’la,_ ” he said sternly but not unkindly as he flipped a switch on the console. “Get to the point,” he said, his voice gentler than it had been a minute ago.

You didn’t know what _mesh’la_ meant, but you continued. “Right, sorry.” The Mandalorian waved away your apology. “Um, so I was working on the ramp when I noticed that he was tinkering with the console. Which I had already fixed earlier. And at first I was insulted. Because I thought he was implying I didn’t know what I was doing and - I’m rambling again.” You chuckled nervously. “It’s a tracking device,” you cut right to the chase.

That got Mando’s attention. “A _what_?” he said, disbelief tracing his voice.

“I think my ex-co-worker was a mole. Working for Moff Gideon,” you said.

Mando swore in a language you didn’t understand.

“I’m sorry. I can try and fix it. But I don’t know Imperial technology, so I don’t know how useful I can be,” you said, watching as the Mandalorian stayed stock-still beside you.

Mando muttered something you couldn’t hear.

“What was that?” you asked. “I couldn’t quite hear that.”

He repeated himself, louder this time. “You don’t have to apologize, sweet girl,” he said. “Did you know he was a mole?”

 _Sweet girl_.

You shook your head. “No, of course not! Nevarro was supposed to be, for the most part, a good place now. Your friends did a really good job tidying the place up,” you said. “But I suspected something was up. I had even spoken to Magistrate Karga about it. But he said that a lot of people are shifty as a default on Nevarro.”

That _did_ sound like something Karga would say, Mando had to acknowledge.

“What do you suggest I do?” asked the Mandalorian.

You racked your brain for a moment. “Outside of ditching the ship and laying low where they can’t find you?” you asked.

“I can’t do that. I need to get the child back to his people,” argued the Mandalorian.

The child in question looked up from the packet of cookies he was eating from.

“I can attempt to disable it, but I can’t make any promises,” you said. “I don’t know my way around Imperial technology like this.” You shuddered at the thought of being involved in Imperial affairs such as this one.

“I can’t pay you,” said the Mandalorian. “But I can make sure you’re fed and have somewhere to sleep.”

He didn’t know _where_ you would sleep, given his only sleeping cubby was currently occupied.

“I don’t need to be paid. I feel sick just thinking about the fact that I was an unwitting accomplice in all of this,” you admitted.

It was true. Your stomach had been churning all afternoon, and it wasn’t a result of the Mandalorian’s flying. It had been in knots since you realized what was going on.

Mando rested a reassuring hand on your knee. “You have nothing to be sorry for, _cyar’ika_. In fact, I’m glad you warned me.”

You looked him in the general vicinity of where his eyes would be beneath the helmet. “You are?” you whispered.

“Yes. It’s better to know now rather than later and be caught unawares.” Mando sounded as though he spoke from experience. Knowing his line of work, he probably was.

You couldn’t make any promises for reversing what had been done. “I’ll try my best to disable it, there’s a few things I can think of off the top of my head, but again, I don’t know.”

If the Mandalorian was worried, he didn’t show it. “I trust you, _cyar’ika._ If you can’t fix it, that’s fine, too.”

The three of you sat there in companionable silence for a time.

* * *

For the next few days, you did little but tinker away at that spot on the console. No matter what you did, nothing seemed to work. It didn’t help that you were out of your element. Your job was to _repair_ things, not remove Imperial spyware.

As Mando and the child drank their soup behind you, you sighed, tossing down your tool. “ _Dank farrik,_ ” you grumbled.

Mando turned to look at you. “What is it?” he asked, gesturing at you to come sit down with them. “Come on, _mesh’la_ , your soup is going cold. You need a break.”

He had to be bored. He just had to. It had been your idea to fly around in circles to throw Moff Gideon off his trail. It was a temporary solution.

You sighed again, spinning around in your chair to join them.

The child looked up at you in curiosity.

“What’s wrong?” asked the Mandalorian.

Taking a sip of the warm soup, you said, “It’s been four days. I’ve been doing nothing but work on that _kriffing_ tracking beacon. And everything I try to do to remove it is not working.”

You knew that this was the likelihood, that you wouldn’t be able to fix it. It was beyond your capability. Still, you tried, wanting to wipe your hands clean of your association with the person who did this.

As the Mandalorian lifted his helmet just enough to have a swallow of his own soup, your eyes nearly bugged out of your head as you saw the smallest part of his lower face before you looked away, not wanting to stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest, loud enough so that you could hear it.

“It’s okay,” said the Mandalorian’s modulated voice. “You are doing all that you can when you didn’t have to do anything, not even warn me,” he said.

You turned back to look at him. “I couldn’t _not_ warn you, Mando,” you countered. “I had to warn you. I hope you would do the same for me if the situation was reversed.”

Din wasn’t surprised by this answer. Though he hadn’t known you that well before this week, he knew that you were likely a selfless person. It endeared you to him even more. There were a lot of endearing things about you, he thought.

He lifted his helmet up again and before you could turn to give him some privacy, he stopped you. “It’s all right. You just can’t see my whole face,” he reassured. Although with each passing day, he was becoming less and less sure of that statement.

Trying not to stare, you said, “I just don’t know what to do, Mando. I know you have a task to fulfill.”

Mando sighed. Not at you, but at the situation. “It’s fine, _mesh’la_ ,” he muttered. “I should have known that this was not the end of my trouble with Moff Gideon.”

The baby gurgled beside the Mandalorian.

“I know we can’t keep running in circles. They’re going to catch up to us,” you offered.

The Mandalorian nodded. “I know. I was actually wondering if you would like to stay on as a crew member,” he said.

 _You hadn’t been expecting that_.

Before you could say anything, he continued. “I - I could use someone with your skill around here.”

 _And I like you_ , he thought. _Would like to get to know you better._

You could do nothing but stare at him for a moment, trying to find your voice. “All right,” you managed to get out. “If-if you’re really sure.”

“I’m sure,” replied the Mandalorian earnestly.

You smiled at him, the first real smile you’d offered to him all day. “Then, yes. I will join your crew, Mando.”

* * *

One night, about a month later, you were sitting down in the cockpit of the _Razor Crest_ , fiddling with the console.

You and Mando had been trailed by an Imperial fleet for the past day and Mando had finally managed to get the slip on them, though not without minor damage to the console.

Fiddling away at the knobs and buttons, an unfamiliar beep reached your ears as something dislodged from the console.

 _The tracking beacon_. It was deactivated.

Wiggling it free, you held it in the palm of your hand in disbelief.

“Mando,” you said quietly. “Mando!” you repeated louder so that he could hear you from the lower level.

He rushed up to the cockpit. “What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked, worry lacing his voice.

You held out your hand, showing him the tracking beacon in your hand.

“Is that -?” At your emphatic nod, he exhaled a sigh of relief, relaxation taking over his body. He took it from you, placed it on the ground and stomped on it with his boot before scooping you up in a hug.

It shouldn’t have surprised you. Mando had become increasingly more attentive with you over the past month, one of his hands was always in yours, or on the small of your back as he guided you somewhere.

But to think that he reciprocated your feelings? _That_ stunned you.

“I knew you could do it,” said the Mandalorian as he let you go.

Your gaze lingered on his retreating form as he went to check on the child.

Later, just as you were settling into your bedroll, you heard footsteps approaching you.

Grabbing your blaster from beside your bedroll, you said, “Who’s there?”

An unmodulated voice responded. “It’s only me, _cyare._ ” _Mando._

“What’s wrong? What is it?” _Where is his helmet_? It was dark. So dark you could hardly see two inches in front of you.

He was right in front of you when he spoke. “Nothing’s wrong, sweet girl. I just -”

And then his mouth was on yours. It was heartbreakingly tender. Curious, even. You sighed into his lips, kissing him back with equal tenderness.

Mando broke the kiss, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I’ve wanted to do that for some time, now,” he whispered.

“Me, too.” With this declaration, you kissed him on his scruffy cheek. It had been a few days since he had last shaved, you figured. “Mando,” you whispered just before you attempted to kiss him again.

Pushing a strand of your hair beneath your ear, he said softly, “Din. My name is Din Djarin.”

You repeated it, tasting his name on your lips. Din wanted to hear you say it like that every day. And then he kissed you again, reveling in the feeling of your lips on his, your fingers winding into his soft hair as you deepened the kiss.

The two of you were like that for some time, the promise of spending your future with this dear man becoming ever more evident with each passing day.


End file.
